


The Valet

by thewonderlandishere



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Child Nanase Haruka, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Haru and Rin are not friends to begin with, Implied Hazuki Nagisa/Ryuugazaki Rei, M/M, Nanase Haruka and Tachibana Makoto Don't Grow Up Together, Nanase Haruka's Parents are Horrible, Protective Nanase Haruka, Tachibana Makoto Servant, Victorians were mean, Workhouse, ehehe historical research, i made Makoto's past really quite sad i'm sorry in advance, well he is actually a Valet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7571941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewonderlandishere/pseuds/thewonderlandishere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My mother used to tell me that if you think hard enough, everything you ever dreamed of will soon be in front of you", the green eyed boy surveyed Haruka with the same gentle smile that had been living in his heart for weeks,<br/>"I think she might have been right".</p><p>Haruka is a part of a wealthy family that Makoto is expected to serve. But what happens when he starts to break through the rigid, formal, Victorian exterior his parents have ingrained in him for the boy with the forest in his eyes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a makoharu fic and although I'm nervous, I just need to bring them into the Victorian era. I need to write this because I need to read it.  
> Constructive criticism is very welcome and I would love it if you told me anything about the Victorian's I could add in along the way, I do love a good history lesson :)  
> Thank you!

Haruka didn't like this young Valet.  
Not one bit.

He didn't even know why he didn't like him he was just, irritating in weirdly, the best way possible.

For one, he smiled way too much for someone who's job it was attend to their 'master' (Haruka hated being called master, especially by this boy) and not think or live for themselves at all. His smiles were bright and far too pure, as if he had never seen anything but sunshine, it almost disconcerted him. He had never seen anyone in his entire life who actually smiled like they meant it; like they had every reason in the world to upturn their lips in this boy's happy, content fashion. Haruka didn't like that this boy's smile made him grow slightly hot on his otherwise cold face.

The boy also hummed to himself whilst he worked, cleaning and preparing Haruka's clothes for another day of lonely, formal boredom, like he had a child's music box inside of him. He hated that he found it somehow soothing. He had once compared it to his Grandmother's voice, the only sound that had ever made Haruka calm, which was scary in itself. No-one else was supposed to be as soothing as Grandmother. It simply wasn't possible.

He didn't like that this boy was a giant either. A very gentle, sometimes clumsy giant. He hated that when he stood in front of him to ask him to do something he had to look up; had to look up at that happy, pure face. It made him feel small. He'd often had to stop his mind wandering to a place where he could fall freely into the boy's long arms and tall frame and never let go.

But most of all, Haruka hated his eyes. Those two pools of understanding and kind green that looked down on him so gently he felt as if he was free and running through a forest; a forest of never ending, gentle green. They reminded him of so many calm, wonderful things he had had to forget about as he had grown older. The pale green lake that he and his Grandmother had sat at where she had taught him to sew, the green grass that he used to lie in and dream of a day when his parents would treat him like a child, the pale green dress that his Grandmother wore the day before she passed away.

The Valet's eyes reminded him of too many good things; too much past joy. He was what caused Haruka to pine and long for a life where he could swim away and be free and safe in the arms of another; someone who accepted him.

And that's why he hated him. The boy didn't even need to speak to make Haruka hope for something.

Haruka didn't even know his name.


	2. The First Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru see's the world as it really is for the first time

Eight years earlier

 

The day was dreary and the people were drearier still.

Rain sloshed on the pavements and the horses that carried the few lucky enough to remain dry unwillingly through it; their tired hooves muddy and sodden. People rushed from either side; children that pretended the great puddles were oceans and played happily among the diseased mud, young, hurried men who daren't look someone lower than them in the eye and old widowed women that tried to lure eyes with their goods for sale.

Although many were worlds apart, the people's characters and circumstances were forgotten under the rain that ceased to stop. Under the sky they were merely mortals; just mere people.

A young boy grumpily looked out the carriage window, watching the raindrops as they raced down the glass. 

He hated carriages. And people. And his parents. He longingly looked out at the children playing in their make-shift lake and lamented at the fact that he himself would never be able to join them. He would never quite be free.

He huffed, sending a puff through his pitch black fringe, his sapphire eyes becoming more apparent at the lack of fringe guarding them. He hated looking people in the eye. His Grandmother said the eyes were the window to the soul. No-one he ever talked to or looked into the eyes of seemed to have a soul.  
His Grandmother had told him not to trust people like that.

His fringe was his only line of defence against the eyes of prejudice and he knew that if he made his dependence clear, his mother would have a pair of scissors in a maid's hand's quicker than lightning so he refrained from making it obvious.

The boy continued to stare outside the carriage window, still taking in the parade of characters that flitted before his eyes. Oh, how he longed to get out of this carriage and join them, how he longed to be able to blend in, become part of the background, to be ordinary. But fate had decided that was one thing he would never be and how childish of him to think he could escape such a thing as fate.

'Haruka!', his mother said sternly from the seat opposite him, 'that is not how a gentleman should sit, straighten up immediately!'

The boy, Haruka, huffed ever louder and unwillingly straightened his back. He waited for his mother to become engaged in conversation with his father, who sat next to her, and then resumed his slouched position and carried on watching the world go by.

His mothers stern words were not few and far between, despite him having a nanny who payed more attention to him than his mother ever would. In fact, they had become far more frequent after Haruka's Grandmother had passed away two years ago. It was like she suddenly realised she had a child.

Haruka's Grandmother was the only one who had ever really had any understanding or hold on Haruka for she was the only one who had ever treated Haruka like a child instead of a future prospect or a disappointment. She was the only one who recognised he was actually still only a boy.

The streets they rode through were getting busier now; people multiplying as rapid as rabbits. It is probably important to note that Haruka had no idea where he was going. His parents never felt the need to inform him properly of events taking place and he had rarely been allowed out of their estate for anything but formal gatherings and outings. Haruka often wondered whether staying at the mansion all day was more boring than wandering around London with his parents and servants aimlessly.

He was extremely annoyed that in their hurry to depart this morning, he had not had time to have a bath. He pretended for a moment that this was the only reason he was angry at his awful parents, deciding to momentarily disregard the list he had been keeping in his head since he was 7.

His curiosity grew however because he did not recognise in the slightest where he was; the dirty streets were painted with unfamiliarity. He was not used to being at all exposed to anyone or anything that wasn't distinguished and wealthy and uptight and frankly boring like his parents, which he resented them for further. How did they expect him to understand anything or people when he was rarely allowed to experience anything new?

Haruka was so caught up in his thought's, he failed to notice that the carriage had stopped and his parents were making their way out towards the servants that carried umbrellas for them, not themselves.

He trudged behind them, wincing at how uncomfortable he was in his outing attire. He had recently grown and the small, black waistcoat was becoming tight around his shoulders but he had made no attempt to tell anyone. A trip to the tailors was far worse than this.

The rain was still heavily poured down and the minute Haruka was out in the street next to the carriage, a servant girl hurried next to him, placing an umbrella over his head. She did not put it anywhere near herself and Haruka watched as her face twisted in discomfort at the rain as it trickled down her maids cap. 

Haruka took the umbrella from her shivering hands and raised it just enough so it covered both his and her head from the rain. She looked at him shocked before trying to grab the umbrella. 

'Y-Young Sir! Y-You really m-must not sh-share it with me!' she cried, stammering through her words quietly enough so no-one could hear, 'It is my j-job to serve yo-'

'Quiet' , Haruka said, cutting her off and disregarding her woeful eyes, 'Please think nothing of it and please do not draw attention. I simply cannot stand for my parents to allow you to be cold and wet whilst I alone remain dry.'

The maid tried to protest further but Haruka simply ignored her and carried on walking to catch-up with his parents and the other servants, making her hurry along and duck under the umbrella once more.

Haruka made no attempt to ask his father where they were going, he simply followed, concentrating instead on the noise his shoes made as he walked through the busy, wet streets.  
Slish slosh, slish slosh went his shoes; the noise reminding him of when he used to paddle in the lake near the mansion, his Grandmother smiling down at him.

'You're just like a mermaid Haruka', she'd say before telling him stories of the human fish that lived beneath the waves. He used to spend days wishing he could become one and swim away and never come back. He used to spend a lot of days wishing he never had to come back.

The streets, he learned, were far more busy on foot than in carriage. He found himself bumping into tall gentlemen and ladies in dresses that trailed in the puddles behind them. The smell was also far more severe and the scent of bodies, fish for sale and rain hung heavy in the air, twisting around him as he sloshed his way behind his parents.  
He also couldn't help but notice how much he seemed to stick out; his well-made suit contrasting to the rags some people wore as they past him. 

He found a few of them staring at him as he passed, almost longingly, as if wishing they were in his shoes rather than their own. Haruka found that odd. Why would anyone in their right mind swap their life for his miserable existence?

Once again, Haruka had been too caught up in his thoughts to notice where they were going and was surprised to look up to find them in front of an alleyway that led god knows where. Haruka froze. This was certainly new.

'Dear' said Haruka's mother, worriedly turning to her husband, 'are you sure it's wise to got his way?'

Haruka was surprised and more frozen still. His father planned to walk through there? If he wasn't so confused he might have been scared.

'Yes, yes it's fine', Haruka's father replied, 'this way is quickest and it's safe I assure you'.

Haruka almost laughed as his father puffed out his chest and began to walk through the dim alleyway, in an almost comical way. Haruka's mother tightened her grip on her husbands arm and walked through as well. The servants began to follow cautiously , as did Haruka, and Haruka's grip on the umbrella, which had previously been quite light, tightened slightly. The servant girl next to him eyed him and his grip tenderly before walking as well.

The rain could still be heard on the umbrella above his head but it was slightly lighter due to the protection of the looming, badly-built buildings on either side of them. The sound Haruka's mother's shoe's made on the damp concrete rang out throughout the alleyway, completely covering the sound of the busy, wittering crowd that they had left behind them.

It was silent apart from that factor, and the quiet chattering Haruka's parents had previously been engaged in had ceased altogether, leaving room in the air for the tense silence that now consumed them all. No-one uttered a word. 

Haruka wondered how long this alleyway went on for and also wondered if you could get lost in these hidden streets; forgotten by the people of the streets. He also felt out of place in the dingy, dark daylight that reached this soulless realm, and watched as his father pocket watch reflected light from the seemingly non-existent sun; the glances of rainbow being swallowed by the mist of the alleyway.

Haruka wondered whether they would even ever get to the end, whether they would ever see the sunlight again.

That's when they heard the scream.

It was shrill and high, piercing the veil of silence that had cloaked them previously. There was then a wail, full of pain and woe, that followed that hit Haruka right in the soul. The wailing continued and it got louder and raspier as if the person screeching was beginning to loose their voice.

Haruka was far more scared when he realised that the scream was coming from in front of them and that they would most likely have to walk past the person who was screaming as if the sun had gone out. Maybe the sun had gone out for them.

Haruka's father gently pushed his wife aside and made his way almost silently forward, obviously intent on finding the source. Before Haruka knew it, he was following his father.

'Haruka!', his mother whispered slightly angrily, trying to pull him back. She had a fearful look in her eye and it occurred to Haruka this was the first time he had seen any type of soul in her eyes.

Haruka got rid of her weak grip with ease and ignored the worried eyes of the servants and the shaking and helpless form of his mother as he followed his father further to the wailing.  
The noise was highly strung in the air and it was still piercing his very being. It was almost like he was impaling himself by going closer. But he didn't stop moving.

The wailing got louder and louder and louder and sobbing had now been added to the mix. Whoever it was wasn't older than Haruka, the voice was far too high to be that of a man or woman even so it must be a child. It made Haruka almost run back to his mother by thinking of a child making this noise; a child potentially the same age as him.

What could have caused a child to wail with such woe?

When Haruka's father reached the end of the alleyway that the wailing was coming from, he stopped dead. The wailing almost ceased.

Haruka moved quickly next to his father to see what on earth had caused such a reaction from a man so famously stoic.

He turned to the scene his father was looking at. He too stopped dead.

There, with a limp, lifeless woman covered in blood in his quivering arms, was a young boy no older than Haruka himself. His face was shocked and red streaks ran down his face, obviously from the crying, and his hair looked like it hadn't been washed in years. His tattered form was mostly covered by the bloodied body of a clearly dead woman; her lifeless eyes staring up at the rainy sky. Her hair was the exact same shade as the boy and her features were almost the same.

It was quite easy to piece together the puzzle.

The boy continued to look up at Haruka's father , but his gaze was wasted because Haruka's father was fixated on the dead body of the woman.  
Everything changed when the boy looked at Haruka. 

Watery green immediately invaded all of his sense's and Haruka's breath caught in his throat. This boy's soul was the saddest thing he had ever seen. Green, such a normally, peaceful colour was now tainted beyond change; the green was now streaked with blood red.

Haruka's heart thudded in his chest as he continued staring at the grief-stricken stranger, and he took in the sadness so much he could feel it manifesting itself permanently in his own dead heart.

Haruka wanted to lift this boy up from his dead mother and cradle his broken form and let him sob into him. He wanted to do everything in his power to protect this boys pure soul. Haruka had never seen a soul like this and he wanted to save it from the pain and not allow it to be tainted like this ever again. Never again.

Haruka was just contemplating on reaching out his hand and helping this boy up at least when he heard his father's dead, unaffected voice seep cruelly into his ears.

'Haruka, we are leaving', he turned to face Haruka dead in the eye,  
'Immediately'.

Haruka had never felt this sick in his entire life. How could someone be that black-hearted? The last thing this boy needed was a back turned on him.  
This boy's soul needed to be saved.

'Father?!',Haruka almost shouted at his father, 

'WE CANNOT JUST LEAVE HIM HERE!'

Haruka had actually just shouted at his father. He may as well just dig his own grave but this was too important. He refused to willingly leave a bewildered, motherless child in a cold, dark alleyway.

Haruka's father turned dangerously to him, his face red as he bellowed, 'DO NOT EVER RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME!'

His nostrils flared and his calloused, satan-like hands made their way to Haruka's collar, 'WE. ARE. LEAVING. IMMEDIATELY'

Haruka was struck with so much hatred for his father in that moment, he thought he might turn to ashes and crumple to nothing with dismay. He turned to the boy, who was now shaking even more and looking at the scene playing out before him in such a frightened way that Haruka's heart burst into a million pieces.

Haruka's father's hand's made their way around his neck now and seemed to squeeze any other words out of him . Haruka was sure he would now have a bruise around his neck, if he lived that is.

'Tell no-one boy', his father growled, 'not a word'.

Haruka nodded unwillingly because he knew his life would end if he didn't and then his father roughly pulled him along by the cusp of his shirt.

One last glance of the once wailing boy in the alley mist was all he needed for his heart to disappear all together.  
He saw it.  
He saw the boy's soul die.  
He saw the boy loose faith in everything, everyone.  
He saw the green turn grey, the same colour as the mist.

Haruka could do nothing now because the boy's mother was not the only one dead now, the boy was too.

Haruka had failed to save the only soul he had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise I have updated it very quickly but I already had most of this chapter written already. I'm very sorry for what I did to both Haru and Makoto in the first chapter no less, but I will fix them I promise!  
> Thank you for reading and please feel free (ahah puns) to leave a comment :)


	3. Phantoms of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru can sEE DEAD PEOPLE

Present

 

Haruka woke with a jolt.

His rapid breathing filled the morning-lit room and the sound of singing birds glided into his room through the open window, soothing his breathing to a normal pace. He glanced out to the sunlight that smiled into his room and took in the bright blue of the sky. 

Why had he thought of that day on a gorgeous day like this?

He was sure it was all part of the curse.

He swept his sweaty bed-hair from his face and rubbed his eyes roughly, trying to expel the sleep and the green eyes that seemed stuck inside them. He did not want to see that green today.  
Haruka got up gently from his bed and stretched his tired body and drowsily made his way to the balcony curtains, pushing them apart and letting the light breeze wake him up gently. He revelled in the sound of the birds once more and allowed their happy twittering to overpower the emptiness he felt inside himself.

His peaceful, sad silence was interrupted by the knocking on his door, Haruka sighed.

'Come in', he said, listening to the clutter of breakfast utensils as Rei, one of the butlers that resided in the Nanase household, made his way through the door.

Rei skillfully clicked the door shut beside him and came in swiftly, quickly setting the breakfast onto the table beside Haruka's bed.

'Good morning young Master', said the spectacled butler politely and respectfully, continuing to place the breakfast and arranging it as delicately as he always did, 'I trust you slept well?'

Haruka sighed for the second time that day already, watching Rei as he finished setting up his breakfast. Being addressed in such a way was still so very annoying, despite all these years.

'Please Rei', Haruka mumbled in a slightly irritating tone of voice, 'Just call me Haruka'.

Rei bowed slightly as Haruka took his seat in front of the food.

'Of course young Master', Rei replied. 

Haruka growled in further annoyance but said nothing else on the matter and listened as Rei told him of the events of the day and the contents of his breakfast as he usually did every morning.

'Today is poached egg with a sprinkle of pepper accompanied by sliced German sausage and herb as well as a saucer of Earl Grey', Rei said, in his usual proper fashion.

Haruka grumbled slightly at the lack of mackeral on his plate but continued to eat all the same as he carried on listening to the Butlers morning tirade of information.

'Today is also a free day, I am sure you are pleased to hear, and I have been told by your father that you are free to do as you please all day as long as you are on the estate', Rei finished his talking and asked Haruka the same question he asked every morning,  
'Is there anything you need my assistance further with young Master?'

Haruka looked up at him and replied, 'I only ask that you prepare my morning bath Rei, then you are free to go'.

The Butler bowed and straightened his glasses on his face in his dorky fashion, ' Thank you young Master, I shall prepare it right away. '.

Rei left Haruka's room without another word leaving Haruka alone once more.

Haruka slumped in his chair as he chewed. Just another lonely, uneventful day he supposed then.

He sighed for the third time that day, so heavily and deeply it was as if he was sad enough to never want air in his lungs ever again. He let his mind wander through his pitiful haze and wondered what he would be doing if he was really alive.

Would everyday be as boring if he wasn't dead inside?

 

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

The maids of the house dressed Haruka in his attire for the day after his bath and he then proceeded to quickly and quietly make his way down the stairway and out to the gardens, towards his precious lake.  
Haruka's favourite place was the pale, green lake of his childhood. It reminded him of his Grandmother. It was the only place he could clear his head of the loneliness that reigned supreme within his thoughts.

His Grandmother had started to speak to him at the lake after his mother died a year ago. Haruka felt a little guilty that he was pleased by losing his mother he had gained back his Grandmother, not that he felt like he had lost a mother. She hadn't felt like one. Haruka hadn't shed a tear on her funeral day. He had forgotten how to feel anything whatsoever by then.

Swimming in the lake was the only way Haruka could feel anything. The water was the only thing that had embraced and comforted him since his Grandmother.

Haruka made his way through the trees that coaxed the sunlight from the sky onto the forest floor, and towards the clearing of the lake. When he got there he smiled softly to himself, pausing to admire the willow trees that kissed the surface of the calm water and the sound of the water colliding gently with the leaf-covered shore, before making his way to the waters edge and listening out for his Grandmothers voice just like he had begun to do a year ago.

'Hello Haruka', came the soft, caring voice of his Grandmother, finally breaking the forest's silence.

'Hello Grandmother', Haruka replied quietly back, turning to look where his Grandmother usually sat with her sewing at the waters edge by the willows, just like she did when she was alive and they would come down here together.

She always wore the same pale green dress that she had worn the day before she passed and her old, faded, ghostly form seemed to merge with the lake itself. Her hair, which had always been grey in Haruka's memory, was a bold, shining silver in her after-life and her whole face seemed to glow with an other worldly radiance.

Haruka made his way over to her and sat next to her. She smiled and began on her sewing like she always had.

'You look tired again Haruka' she finally said, not turning to look at her grandson who looked out to the lake sadly like she had began to notice he did far too often,  
'Did you have the dream again?'

Haruka closed his eyes in defeat. His Grandmother was using her heavenly abilities against him.

'Yes, I did', he replied opening his eyes and turning to her,  
'Why is it always the same dream?'

'Even I do not know the answer to that question my dear', she said to her sewing ' and believe me, I have been in existence far longer than I would like'.

Haruka sighed and leaned back against the rock he had always sat on as a child beside his Grandmother. He was sure this was another part of the curse.

Haruka leaned up again and lifted his knees up to his chest, wrapping his slim arms around his legs. 

'Is it another part of this curse Grandmother?', Haruka whispered quietly, almost to himself.

His Grandmother finally put her sewing down and turned to him. She looked at him with her kind eyes and Haruka instantly wished he hadn't uttered anything, it was impossible to look into eyes so similar to your own and say such things.

'Haruka', said Haruka's Grandmother, a stern element present in her otherwise gentle tone,  
'You are not cursed, I simply wouldn't allow such a thing. You know that'.

Haruka moved his gaze to his hands, unable to meet her eyes now. Blue on blue was too difficult to bear right now.

Haruka's Grandmother took his hand into her own transparent, cold one, caressing it comfortingly. It still made Haruka's heart hurt that her hand was as cold as it was now. It was a cruel reminder that she was really gone.

'I have to go now, but please, do not think that the dream is part of the curse you have made up', she said, soothing him with her knowing words, 'In fact, think of the dream as a gift. It means something my boy, I can feel it'.

Haruka frowned at their joined hands, confused at his Grandmothers words. What did she mean the dream was a gift? 

The dream was nothing but a nightmare he was forced to relive because he had failed to go against his evil father to help a motherless child. How could it mean something when all that Haruka felt upon recalling it was guilt and sadness.

He whipped his head up to look at his Grandmother and ask her what she meant.

'What do you mean it means somethi-' Haruka's words were lost in the light forest air because his Grandmother was gone. She never seemed to stay for long these days. Haruka was sure her visits were getting shorter.

Haruka sighed, thurrily dissapointed that his Grandmother could not stay long enough to answer his question. 

He looked out at the lake once more this time filled with so many questions.

The lake usually calmed him but this time it's peaceful green hue was tainted with blood red; just like it had been that day.

Haruka wondered what had happened to the wailing child in the grey mist.

His soul had disappeared, but he surely hadn't died, surely he was alive somewhere, soulless like himself.

Haruka remembered the appearance of his clothes and hair and the dirty alleyway that he had clung on to his dead mother in and pondered morbidly whether or not the green eyed boy was seriously still alive.

Considering the circumstances Haruka had seen the boy for the only time all those years ago made him highly doubt that if he resided anywhere, he was not alive in the sense he was sure he had been before. He was sure that the boy was now more worlds apart from him than he had been.

The only thing they probably had in common was a dead mother.

How horrible.

Haruka continued to stare solemnly out at the lake, but the lake was beginning to sadden him. It was too green.  
Everything was too green; it had been since that day.

Where was the boy now, Haruka dared to wonder, and where was his soul.

Haruka looked up at the sky and wondered if it was just lost, not dead like he had thought for years and since that day.

Could someone with a lost soul still live?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I again realise that this is quite quickly updated and I honestly don't know what has happened, I can't usually write this quickly. It must be because i'm writing about Haruka and Makoto, whom I love of course.  
> Lets hope this creative burst lasts so I can actually tell this story!  
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the little insight to Haruka's lonely little life :)


	4. Sapphires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto's life has been real sad im so sorry

Seven years earlier There was a hum of chatter in the communal dining hall, but no laughter or any indication of anything but sadness and weariness on the grey faces of the residents.  
No-one who sat at the benches, hunched over their measly meal, even cracked a smile.

Makoto didn't think he had ever seen anyone but Nagisa crack a smile in the entire workhouse.

Makoto himself smiled. But only for Nagisa. He felt Nagisa was the only one worth smiling for; his spirit needed to be kept bright for Makoto was holding onto it for dear life in the eternal darkness that had consumed his life the minute he had set foot inside the prison. 

Nagisa was his light.

Makoto ate ravenously, as did Nagisa, shovelling the poorly prepared food into his mouth quickly and messily, as if someone would take it from him at any second. Someone probably would if he didn't eat it faster. It was not an uncommon sight to see inmates of the workhouse squabbling over food. 

It made Makoto sick to his stomach knowing children younger than him lost their food to those far greedier than him. He dreaded to think what the twins went through but all he could do was wonder because, despite them living in the same building since their mother had died, Makoto hadn't seen them once since they had arrived three years ago; motherless and with nowhere else to go. 

Nagisa hadn't seen his sisters for almost the same amount of time. Everyone was separated the minute they got here from the ones they loved, even husbands and wives. It was as  
if they wanted to break everyone here until they were nothing; not even a person.

Makoto felt like he was breaking apart even more when he saw the twins being separated from him and each other; their screams echoing the dimly lit corridors of the workhouse and the rain that lashed outside seemed to grow heavier and more violent as their wails faded further from his reach.

Makoto thought it was a sign that even God wanted him to be alone and dying.  
It made him sneer inwardly at the 'Love God' decorations that littered the cold, stone walls.

How was he supposed to love someone that only seemed to hurt him?

He had often wondered why no-one objected to the cruel ways in which they were treated here and in his naivety he had thought that if he prayed hard enough, worked hard enough and cared for others hard enough, his kindness would be relayed. 

He soon lost that naivety. 

His childhood was swept under the rug as if it never existed.

Every child's was the minute they entered this God forsaken place.

Nagisa finished his food far faster than Makoto did, probably because his hands weren't nearly as bloodied from oakum-picking as his were. Makoto often did some of Nagisa's because the slightly younger boy had far smaller hands than him and Makoto wouldn't be able to bear it if Nagisa was punished for not completing all the work that was expected of them. Besides, Makoto was trying to revel in oakum-picking, not because he enjoyed it but because he knew that he was big enough to start stone-breaking soon. Stone-breaking looked far worse.

Makoto also finished his food and he sat back, as if in awe at how unsatisfying the meal was. Not that he was surprised.

'Mako', Nagisa suddenly whispered to him, his quiet voice only just covered by the low murmuring, 'Something's happening tonight'.

Makoto frowned. Nothing ever happened at night. Everyone was too busy sleeping; savouring the only relief they got in the entire day.

'What's happening?' Makoto replied, just as quietly, 'What are you talking about Nagisa?'

Nagisa smiled a small smile, so as not to raise suspicion from the prowling hall guards, before continuing, ' There's a meeting at 9:00 outside Kisumi and Ai's dorm'.

Nagisa looked around slightly again before leaning in as close as he could to Makoto's ear and whispering, in the quietest voice he could possibly muster,  
' They are planning to go over the wall and escape.'

Makoto almost gasped. Escape? How on earth could they escape their own dorm in the first place?!

Had Nagisa forgotten what would happen if they were caught?!

Did he not remember seeing the lash wounds that ran down Momo's back after he was caught climbing over?

Did he not remember the wails that poured from the poor boy's mouth and how it had seemed to shake the entire building?

Did he not remember the way he had held tighter onto Makoto's dirty shirt at every sound of the cracking whip and how every child in their tiny, overcrowded dormitory cowered in fear?

'Nagisa!' Makoto harshly whispered, his tone far from it's usual honey-like melody, 'You can't seriously be thinking of joining them can you? Remember what happened to Momo!'

Nagisa shuddered at the memory of the orange-haired boy's bloodied back but then an air of determination and hope came over him.

He had still not learned that both determination and hope were dangerous things to have in a workhouse.

'Makoto', Nagisa said, addressing his friend in a stern manor that did not suit Nagisa's sweet voice at all, 'This could be our only chance! You don't want to be stuck here do you? You don't want to fall asleep to the sound of weeping everynight and live off meals of gruel for the rest of your life do you!?'

Makoto sighed. Of course he didn't. He wouldn't wish his existence upon anyone and he wanted the best for Nagisa and Ren and Ran.

But the fact remained that this was all they had; they had nowhere else to go.

They had no choice.

Makoto put his warm, calloused hand on Nagisa's frail shoulder and Nagisa deflated.

'Nagisa', Makoto said softly, 'You know you are like a brother to me and I swore to protect you that day we met. Don't think I will let up that protection because I want to keep you safe as much as is possible.'

Nagisa was silent so Makoto carried on.

'One day we will get out of here, I promise, but we need to wait for the right time. The twins are six years old Nagisa and your sisters are seven and nine. How on earth would we all escape without getting caught?' Makoto reasoned, ' I simply will not risk it.'

Makoto finished, sad that he had dampened Nagisa's spirit. He had to keep the boy safe somehow. God didn't seem to help him in anyway.

Nagisa remained silent for the rest of the meal-time and without his usual babbling to fill in the emptiness inside himself, it allowed for Makoto's thoughts to wonder.

They often wondered to blue.

Rich,sapphire blue that invaded his sense's, much like it had that terrible night in the alleyway.

He hated that such beautiful eyes were associated with that awful memory.

The boy's words often rang out in his dreams many a time.

'WE CANNOT JUST LEAVE HIM HERE',  
he had shouted in that dim alleyway; the words more shocking than the weight of his dead mother laying in his arms, her body's heat slowly leaving.

Makoto remembered the way the boy's beautiful, sapphire eyes had seemed to fade when he was dragged away. It was almost like he was the one who was dead inside, not Makoto. It was almost like he was the one with nothing.

From the looks of his expensive clothing and his pale, unblemished skin it certainly didn't seem so but then Makoto didn't know anything about the rich; he had never been close to comfort in his short life.

Makoto's thoughts of the blue eyed mystery boy were pushed away violently with the loud announcement that supper was up and it was time for bed.

Nagisa grabbed on to Makoto, trying to anchor his small body to Makoto's as they made their way to their dorm with the other hundreds of unfortunate children, and Makoto did his best to comfort the boy. Nagisa hated the dark, damp room they were forced to sleep in.

Once they were all hurried in, a workhouse maid slammed the door shut, not for a second caring that the aggressive movement had frightened some of the children. Makoto almost growled under his breath at her unkindness.

Makoto and Nagisa made their way to their small, straw-strewn bed; their tired bodies collapsing the minute they reached their pitiful excuse for a bed. 

Makoto allowed Nagisa to snuggle into his side as he did every night and Makoto layed their tattered blanket over the smaller boys quivering body, ignoring the shaking of his own. 

'Night', said Makoto, wrapping his arms around the smaller boys frail form.

'Night Mako', replied Nagisa, snuggling into the blanket and Makoto, his body still shivering.

Makoto smiled a small sad smile to himself, before closing eyes to sleep, even though his mind was too awake with the blue eyes that had haunted him for three years. 

The sapphire eyes that wanted to help him. 

The sapphire eyes that hadn't wanted to walk away, but did anyway.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Everything was cloudy and grey and the small dark alleyway in which he kneeled alone was shadowy and dark. Makoto let his tears fall freely, adding to the lashing rain.

The mist jeered around him, like gleeful spirits, and Makoto quivered, missing the warmth the twins brought with them. But the twins were in the small, decaying hut that they had been living in because they couldn't see their mother like this.

They couldn't watch her die.

Makoto , nor his mother, would simply not allow it.

Their mother had collapsed about an hour ago and Makoto knew she didn't have long left. Makoto had tried to move her to their dirty hovel, but he himself was too weak. 

They had no blankets to wrap her in, no warm shelter, no money, no anything.

There was not even anything to wipe the blood that she had coughed up all over herself off of her bony body, there was nothing to allow her to pass with any sort of dignity.

Makoto cried more as his mother weakly put a cold hand to his face, cupping his cheek and wiping away the tears that trickled from his jade green eyes, smiling sadly through her pale lips.

'Ma-makoto', she choked out, 'Please dont cry'

Makoto cried harder if that were possible, clinging to her barely-there body.

'Ssshhh', his mother cooed weakly, 'Promise t-to take care of the twins and yourself. I l-love you all s-so muc-ch'

'I know,' Makoto replied, sobs threatening to break through with every word, 'I promise I will protect them and care for them as much as you have.'

Makoto's mother smiled once again but it was short lived when her breathing got weaker and she sighed in pain.  
Makoto knew she would leave him soon.

'I'll be watching y-you my little Mako', she barely got out, her croaky voice lost in the heavy rain, 'I wi-ll watch wi-th you-r father and tell him ho-w wond-erful y-you all are.'

Her breath was raspier than ever and Makoto lifted her up gently to look into her green eyes, so similar to his own, as their once warm light faded away.

'B-be strong', she managed to get out before the life left her eyes and her raspy breaths were no more.

'Mother?', Makoto said shakily, lightly shaking his mother to get her to look at him even though they would now never look at anything again. Makoto began to panick and his sobbing finally broke through.

'MOTHER!?' He shouted, wails of woe erupting from his mouth,  
' MOTHER COME BACK! DON'T LEAVE US!

But as much as he shook her and shouted and wailed and called for her soul to return to her cold, dead body, she did not move or take another breath. She never would again.

He cried out and sobs racked his ribs as he cradled his mother in his soaked arms. His howls of loss echoed through the alleyway as he hugged his mothers body to his own, as if he was trying to transfer his own warmth to her. He didn't care if everyone in London heard his grief and his loud, sorrowful weeps and wails shot through the very air; shooting through the rain-ridden clouds.

He didn't even care when he heard heavy footsteps making their way towards the alleyway in which he wept. He didn't care what happened to him anymore. 

That was until he felt a detached, cold stare boring into him and he looked up to find a big, unforgiving looking man, dressed in very rich attire, staring down at him in shock. 

Makoto noticed it wasn't a concerned sort of shock though for this man did not look concerned at all. Makoto was disgusted with this man already.  
How could he look upon a lonesome child with a dead women in his lap and have a reaction like that?

Makoto only sniffled as the man looked at him, his icy blue eyes showing no emotion other than shock and maybe even disgust. Makoto also noticed he was more fixated on his mothers dead body than his whimpering form.

Makoto was so caught up in his despair he failed to notice the gentler footsteps that had wandered to the end of the alleyway as well.

Everything changed when Makoto glanced to the side to avoid the cold mans gaze and found a small boy, most likely the same age as him, staring at him as well.

Sapphire and oceans flew through Makoto's body when he saw the boy's blue eyes staring at him in horrified shock. 

The boy's shock was different though. 

His shock was clearly filled with sorrow and his shaking form gave off a feeling of woe, as if he felt awful for Makoto and desperately wanted to help him. 

As if he wanted to reach out and tell him everything was going to be ok.

Makoto had never seen eyes contain so much of a story in them; he felt like he could read the whole story of this boys life with one look. 

He heard the man speak but he couldn't comprehend any words; his mind was too hazy with grief. He felt like he was watching the blue eyed boy and the man talk from a distance high up through the clouds like his mother probably was.

His haze however was torn apart when the boy's shout ripped through the mist, the anger in his voice translating to Makoto's unhearing ears,  
'WE CANNOT JUST LEAVE HIM HERE!'

The boys sad, angry shout ricocheted through the empty alleyway, much like Makoto's wails had a moment ago and Makoto's eyes widened whilst he continued to stare at the boys sorrowful face. 

Had someone other than his mother just shown compassion towards him?

Were the boys words a figment of his downcast imagination?

Makoto didn't register the man's furious shout and he watched helplessly as the boy was yanked up harshly by the collar of his well-tailored suit, fear lacing those beautiful sapphire eyes.

Makoto began to shake, suddenly remembering the dead body of his mother and the new responsibility of keeping his brother and sister alive.  
She really was gone.

He watched as the boy was dragged away from the alleyway and he let his sadness seep into his gaze as he caught the boys ocean blue eyes for the last time. 

He had no-one now and he knew that just for a moment, just for a small minute, he could pretend that those blue eyes that were disappearing into the rain were staring at him because they cared. 

As the mist swallowed the boy, Makoto could still remember the boys words and felt as if he could here them again. 

'You can just leave me here', thought Makoto as he surveyed the mist that had eaten the sapphire eyed boy, the last of his hope gone with him, 'you just did'

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Makoto gasped and shot forward in a weary jerk, knocking some straw out of their dirty, uncomfortable bed.

He blinked rapidly and tried to adjust himself to reality once more.

Why had he dreamt of that night?

Why had he remembered those eyes in such detail?

Makoto was sure he was damned to be haunted by them for the rest of his measly life but he wished they would go elsewhere whilst he slept.

Sleep was his only escape from this hell he lived in and he did not feel it was fair for it to be riddled with ghosts of the past and horrible memories of his mothers final moments.  
He never seemed to catch a break.

Makoto felt around for Nagisa, hoping the little blonde would provide him with comfort and make him forget the memories the dream had arisen, but when he felt to his side he found the other side of the small bed empty.

He felt the blankets that Nagisa had been wrapped in. 

Ice cold.

He'd been gone for a while.

Makoto knew exactly where he was and he frantically hurried out of the dorm wearily, yet sneakily, desperate to make sure Nagisa wouldn't do what Makoto was convinced he was going to to do.

Makoto ran for Nagisa, his light, through the dimly lit corridors of this hell.

Little did he know, Nagisa's misadventure would cost him, but then again when did anything not cost him.

His poor small soul was in for pain but he also did not know it would change  
....someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a massive sad fest to write and i'm sorry for doing all this to Makoto, but I had to explain and give an insight to his life somehow. Just for story background, Makoto is about 11 when he goes into the work house so he would be just short of 14 in this chapter. Haru is the same age as him.  
> Also, just for more information on Victorian workhouses, poor people who were forced to live in the workhouse because they were too poor to have elsewhere to go, were treated horrifically and, like i've hinted, family's were completely split up and segregated. The jobs i mentioned were some of the worst jobs anyone could ask to do.  
> Oakum-picking was one of the most common forms of hard labour in Victorian prisons. Prisoners were given quantities of old rope, which they had to untwist into many corkscrew strands. It did often lead to bleeding fingers.  
> Stone-breaking was when prisoners were forced to break up large stones in order for them to be sold for road making. It was physically very taxing on the body and the long, under-paid hours the inmates were forced to perform sometimes lead to an early death from over-work.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even it was sad to write, and feel free to leave a comment or any constructive criticism! :)  
> (things will perk up soon, i promise)


	5. The Forest is Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are looking up but Haru's father is a complete twat

Crisp, morning air whisked around the two daunted figures; sweeping up their hair from their young faces along with the autumned leaves that had turned golden with the season. The leaves swirled and danced in the air around them but their beauty went unnoticed by the two boys.

Makoto and Nagisa stood side by side, their arms shaking with excited anticipation whilst they held onto their bag's full of their few possessions, and gazed at the grand manor that stood proudly before them. Gentle yet blazing rays of morning sun shone upon them and in turn reflected off the many windows that adorned the building of grandeur, the rays making Nagisa and Makoto's shadows trail long behind them; like their pasts behind them.

Neither spoke a word as they took in the sight in front of them.

Their future.

They couldn't quite believe their luck. How had two workhouse 'rats' ended up at a manor such as this, as a Valet and a Butler no less!

Makoto felt giddy but there was guilt that remained in his giant being, for as Makoto had broadened out and grown taller, so had his guilt.

He said nothing as they both continued to absorb the sight, not wanting to spoil their future with his dreads of the past.

Nagisa was the first to break the awe-struck silence, his happy voice becoming part of the whistling of the leaves around them.

'How did we end up here, eh Mako?', he asked, an unfamiliar and lighter tone to his voice. Makoto hadn't heard such a tone of voice on anyone since his mother passed. He added it to the mental list of things he was indebted for.

'I have not the slightest clue', replied Makoto, wistfully smiling down and turning to Nagisa, who tore his eyes away from the mansion to return Makoto's happy gaze,  
'but I do know that I am possibly the happiest I have ever been'.

Nagisa beamed and his smile got brighter as he turned to look upon the grand gate and the warm, red roses that weaved beautifully in and out of the bars in a graceful manor.

Makoto didn't turn like Nagisa however, instead taking in his friends appearance as he continued to stare at their new life. It was hard to believe this boy, almost man, was the same cowering, malnourished orphan child that had graced the gloomy walls of their past with his sunshine. His golden hair glistened in the kind sun, his bright eyes that were glazed over in a content haze and the radiant smile that stretched it's way across his lips were miles apart from the Nagisa that they had left in the workhouse. 

'At least I managed to save someone', thought Makoto.

Makoto shook off the bitterness and regret that lived inside his mind and at least banished it to the depths of his soul; the part of his soul that he would deal with later in deep slumber like he was accustomed to. He would wait for the ghosts inside himself to awaken him with such thoughts.

For now he concentrated on enjoying this moment with Nagisa; the boy who would have a life now. A life Makoto could be a part of.

A life that didn't involve suffering.

They both waited, still soaking up the beauty of the manor and it's gardens; the sweet smell of flowers wafting up and through the gate. 

Before long a man, whom Makoto assumed to be a Butler due to his formal attire, accompanied by a smaller woman with mouse-brown hair that was swept up into a maid cap came towards the gate.

The man, who Makoto now noticed wore spectacles that reflected the suns light and hid his eyes almost completely, removed a key from his suit pocket and put it to the locked gate; beginning to unlock it.

He twisted the key in the rusted keyhole with great ease, despite it looking extremely stiff to unlock, and opened the rose-covered gate gracefully, with help from the woman next to him.

Makoto and Nagisa stood still and watched as the man and the woman of the manor came out to greet them, their footsteps pattering on the stones that lay around the gate.  
The spectacled man stopped in front of them, acknowledging 

'You must be the new Valet Makoto Tachibana', he turned to Makoto who shook his hand in a friendly manor, albeit stiffly, 'and the new Butler Nagisa Hazuki'. 

He turned to Nagisa, repeating the same slightly awkward gesture, although Nagisa seemed struck by the man and his eyes glittered in a way Makoto had never seen them glitter before. It confused him slightly, but his confusion was forgotten when the man began speaking again.

'My name is Rei Ryugazaki and I am the head Butler of the Nanase Manor', he said, introducing himself with a slight smile that someone might take as welcoming.

'This is the Head Housekeeper, Amakata Miho', he said gesturing to the now smiling woman next to him. Her smile was far more welcoming than the Butler, Rei, seemed to be.  
'Nice to meet you', she said, her sweet voice carrying in the breeze as she curtsied politely, her long dress crinkling in her tender grip.

Both Makoto and Nagisa bowed in return and smiled before turning back to to Rei who was beginning to talk again.

'We will now escort you onto the Nanase Estate', said Rei the Butler, turning slightly to the gate before finishing his briefing,  
'Myself and Miss. Miho will take you around the manor and show you where you will be sleeping as well as the normal routine and errands on a day to day basis and where you will cook and eat your meals. We will also show you around the Manor and then we will take you to meet Sir Nanase himself. Any questions before we proceed?'

Makoto and Nagisa shook their heads.

'No sir', they both said in unison.

The Butler smiled slightly and added, 'You are free to call me Rei if you like seeing as we will now be seeing a lot of each other.'

'You may also call me Ama if you would like', piped in the housemaid, 'there's no need to be so formal when in close quarters'.

'Thank you', said Makoto sweetly, for once having to do the talking for Nagisa, who was too busy gazing at the Butler. Makoto was once again confused, but again he was interrupted by the spectacled Butler.

'Well then, follow me and we shall proceed with the induction', said Rei stepping closer towards the gate and gesturing for the others to follow.

Makoto gripped his bag tighter in anticipation. This was it. This was the day he would finally allow himself to move forward. This was the day when the light would finally begin to reach him.

When they stepped through the gate into the gardens it felt as if they were stepping into a new realm; like suddenly Makoto could breathe. 

'Maybe this is what it feels like to be hopeful', thought Makoto, leaving his dread on the other side of the gate as he passed through to the manor grounds with the others, his chains finally starting to fade away and allowing him to walk.

 

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

There was a time when Haruka didn't mind visiting his fathers study and when he used to relish in the fact his father actually wanted to talk to him or pay him some sort of attention.

He used to love traipsing around his fathers study; surveying the old, worn books that decorated the looming bookshelves and the weird and wonderful artefacts his father had collected on his travels; a small reminder of the future that awaited him. He used to want to like his father.

Those times were long gone.

Haruka stopped wanting his fathers attention when he realised that he would never be worth it; in his fathers eyes that is. He began drowning the moment his father stopped caring. The lake was the only person that embraced him now; his grandmother and mother were no longer present to do so and his father hadn't so much as touched him since the day he was born.

Haruka sighed as he followed the maid to the study, allowing the afternoon wind to brush past him in its hurry to reach its destination. Haruka wished he could follow the wind instead of this maid who had interrupted his painting down by the lake.

Her presence had shocked him if he was honest and with his ghostly grandmother not having returned since their last talk by the lake a few weeks ago about Haruka's curse, Haruka had begun to feel rather lonely. Another human talking to him other than the Butler Rei had surprised him.

His footsteps bagan to drag in the grass as he trudged on rather despondently and his spirits weakened when he caught sight of the manor, its great standing hard to miss in the feild of green in which it stood.

It then occurred to him as he glared at the window of his fathers study that was now coming into view, that he had no idea what the man wanted of him.

He defiently wasn't in trouble because Haruka simply didn't see his father enough for him to do anything that could displease him.

Maybe Haruka was having to go to one of those tedious business parties where he had to pretend that he cared what the other men when were waffling on about and where he had to wear a suit with button done up so tightly that he found it hard to move. He winced at the thought of having to pretend to be enthralled by the women there like the other men did to not raise any questions. Haruka almost groaned at the mere thought of it all.

He finally reached the grand door of the manor, the maid opening the door for him and letting him go on his way respectively, and barely acknowledged the bows of the house staff that followed him as he walked alone down the long stretch of corridor that led to his fathers study.

The walls on either side of him were covered in the withering paintings of relatives, most of them long dead, and despite the fact that most of them were painted with a neutral look on their face, he could not help but feel as if they were judging him; watching his every footstep carefully so as to make sure he did nothing out of line. It made him slightly uncomfortable.

He finally reached the door and stood in front of it in slight fear and apprehension before hesitantly knocking, his pale hands trembling in anticipation for what his fathers intentions might be.

'Come in', he heard the voice of his father, his usual harsh tone slicing through the door as if there wasn't a door there at all. 

He hesitantly let himself in, his trembling hands making a slight meal of opening the door. He was accustomed to people opening the door for him, this was not somethinghe was used to. He felt like he was opening the door for a demon.

He opened the door to find the Butler Rei on the other side already letting him in and Haruka felt a tad embarrassed as the spectacled man polietley bowed as he came into the room.

He was met with the cold, dead glare of his father. Haruka hadn't met his father eyes in at least 3 months.

There were new lines on his face from age and he now had more stubble growing steadily on his face; flecks of grey and white now visible in the pure black hair. The hair that sat on his head, or what was left on it, also had streaks of grey which disarrayed the pitch dark strands that grew.

'Sit, boy', his father commanded, briefly gesturing towards a large wooden chair in front of him. Haruka obeyed and sat down, irritated that the seats position would mean he would have to look into his fathers eyes. He hated looking into those colourless, grey eyes.

Haruka's father held a large pipe in his big, rough hands, so very different from Haruka's delicate ones, and drew a long smoke, as if he was prolonging the time he didn't have to speak to his son. Haruka had got to the point in the non-existent relationship with his father where he didn't care anymore. He used his fathers silence to look around his study, which he hadn't been in for a long time.

The bookshelves were very much the same but they had collected dust with misuse as his father was almost never here. Ornaments that had decorated the study in an almost nostalgic fashion were now almost completely gone, they had been since Haruka's mother had passed. It made Haruka wonder whether his Father actually had feelings for his Mother. Monsters like his Father didn't have feelings , in Haruka's eyes, or souls for that matter.

Smoke from his fathers pipe began to billow up into the air around them, dancing airily around the books and quills in an eerie manor, and also flowing into Haruka's face. The putrid smell of tobacco filled Haruka's lungs but he resisted the urge to cough up the horrid chemical, unprepared to give his father the satisfaction of breaking his stoic, albeit annoyed, expression.

His father finally stopped blowing smoke up into Haruka's breathing space and looked into his sons eyes; his grey wasteland of a gaze meeting Haruka's ocean blue one. Haruka had his mothers eyes and a part of him wondered whether that was one of the reasons his father never seemed to look him in the eye. 

'Haruka', began Sir Nanase, his rough voice raspy with smoke but still intimidating, 'I have summoned you here to discuss...business'.

Haruka groaned internally. Maybe he had been right about being forced into going to another business party. He almost slumped in his chair in defeat but stopped himself when he noticed his father beckoning someone forward from behind him.

Was it Rei? 

Had there even been someone else with Rei?

In his quiet dismay Haruka hadn't even noticed anyone else.

Footsteps followed his fathers authoritative gesture, the footfalls feeling deliberate and heavy in the most gentle way Haruka had ever heard. It intrigued him for he did not recognise the footsteps as Rei's, so that must mean they were someone different. But he couldn't turn around to peek at the person approaching because his chair was too confining meaning Haruka would now have to wait in nervous anticipation to take sight of the stranger.

Haruka hated waiting.

Haruka's thoughts were interrupted by his fathers booming voice, startling Haruka from his brief daydreaming. 

'Seeing as you are 18 years of age now', he felt the figure stop and stand beside him, a little further along, 'and seeing as you are the only heir to both my estate and my business', his father paused to grumble, 'you will be needed to attend most of my meetings from now on, to learn the ropes so to speak'.

His father took another drag from his pipe and Haruka watched the smoke to keep his mind off the dread for his future. His father continued talking, his tone still commanding in his rough manor.

'Therefore, a Butler will now not suffice, for you will be far busier', his father stood up, surprising Haruka, 'So I have enlisted a Valet to help you get used to your new, busier life style. He will help you with your needs within the household and organisation'.

His father sighed, more grumbling than a usual person's sigh.

'You, boy, are going to need much help to even begin to fill my shoes. Unfortunately you are all there is for the Nanase legacy to live on, even if you are utterly useless'.

Haruka ignored his fathers slight, letting his fathers words add to the simmer of anger that permanently resided within him. 

Haruka's father beckoned harshly for Haruka to stand. Haruka assumed he wanted to meet the new Valet. 'The new bother', thought Haruka.

It's not that he wasn't grateful for the help around the house, the staff had practically raised him, but he was bitter because they reminded him of who he was. Who he was supposed to be, who his father wanted him to be. He didn't want to be the person they were payed to serve. If he was honest, he had always wanted to be one of them instead. Their lives seemed far simpler and easier.

Haruka stood quickly, not wanting his slight anger to taint his demeanour towards the new Valet. He needed to treat him with respect because he knew his father defiently wouldn't.

Sir Nanase's voice filled the room again, and Haruka wanted nothing more than to shove a clothe in his mouth so he never had to hear his fathers cruel tone again.

'This is your Valet', his father said, gesturing uncaringly towards the young man that stood next to him, whom Haruka had not looked at yet, his gaze fixated on his hands, 'No clue what his name is but he will be the one to take care of your personal matters now'.

Haruka scowled at his fathers mean insolence and looked up at the young man.

He was tall, towering over Haruka and his father in a quiet, unassuming way, and Haruka suddenly felt very small. He was dressed in the formal attire that was expected of him but Haruka could tell that it was his first time wearing something like it, for the shirt was tucked in an ruffled fashion in an almost endearing way. His shaggy brown hair was unkempt yet smart and it whispered around his tanned neck.

' Sir', said the stranger, his voice surprisingly airy and light for someone of his size, 'It is my honour to serve'.

The stranger bowed in front Haruka, low enough for Haruka to see how broad the Valet's back was. He really did dwarf Haruka.

When the stranger finally straightened up, holding out his hand in want of a handshake, Haruka took in his smile. It was so pure and sincere and his eyes were closed in a gentle and trusting way. Haruka's breath was taken away by it's innocence.

Then the stranger opened his eyes and Haruka's world stopped.

They were a beautiful, jade green so full of life and happiness Haruka almost stepped back. They were eyes that he had never seen before; he had never seen someone with trusting eyes such as this. He had never seen eyes that were so gorgeous they quite literally took his breath away. They were so unfamiliar and yet recognisable, as if Haruka could remember them from somewhere. But there was no way surely. This boy would most defiently not be a bother.

Haruka couldn't even compose himself enough to take the Valet's hand because he was too busy running, running through a forest of kind green; like a child with no care in the world. He felt freer the more he stared.

Little did he know the Valet was also running through a forest.

But his forest was blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, things are staring to look up, although there is still a bumpy ride ahead.
> 
> This took slightly longer to write because I tried doing focusing on Makoto in the first half and Haruka on the second.
> 
> Also, I haven't mentioned before that I have a tumblr so please feel free to leave any anger and sadness (that will defiently happen because I'm a horrible person to my sons) and check for any updates I will post here: @the-never-left-the-wonderland
> 
> EDIT: can i just stress that haru doesnt know makoto's name at all because i deleted that line of mako saying his name so haru has no idea ok? it becomes relevant in the chapter im currently trying to write so i had to make sure haru hadnt heard makos name  
> anyway goodbye now *slides back into rabbit hole*  
> Thank you for reading and feel free to leave a comment :)


	6. The Beginnings of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto and Nagisa are late and Haru's father once again proves to be a waste of oxygen

The entourage of early morning rain battling against the creaking window was what woke Makoto up from his slumber, even though the feeling of sleeping in a bed not laden with hay was a new enough sensation to keep him from sleep. He couldn't stop smiling at the mere thought of how comfortable it is. The smile didn't last though.

It had been about 4 weeks since he and Nagisa had first set foot in the Nanase household; since they said farewell to the ghosts that followed them no longer. Their experience so far had been fairly good and the rest of the staff were so kind. Some of them had been working for the Nanase family since they could walk.

One thought plagued his mind almost all the time though, no matter how long he tried to distract himself with chores. He just wouldn't leave Makoto's mind.  
Sir Nanase's son, Haruka Nanase, had formed permanent residence in his mind since the first time he saw him. 

He lived there now and Makoto was scared he would live there for longer than was safe.

Those eyes had awoken something in his being. They pulled him from the haze he had been living in into the light. They made him feel alive.

Everytime he had to go into his new master's chamber to set the fire in the fireplace, clean his shoes and run his bath he tried to avoid the boys gaze. He smiled as much as he could and was as polite as humanly possible not just because if he did anything to provoke his master's mood he would loose his job, but also because it was a cover up. The perfect cover up for the awe that seemed to struck his face when he saw the boy's beautiful face every morning when he first woke up; his black hair in dissonance and his sleepy blue eyes still contort with their usual stoic nature.

Makoto had always been different in who he was attracted to. He knew it was dangerous to be this way, that it was looked upon with disgust.That he would be punished for it.  
But he just couldn't help it. There was little else to hold on to when he had lived in the workhouse and the comforting thought of a pretty boy to hold and tell secrets to in his daydreams was the only thing that helped him keep the nightmares at bay.

But he knew that they could only remain daydreams. He wouldn't allow himself to ruin the life him and Nagisa had finally built for themselves. He wouldn't allow himself to be that selfish.

Even if it did mean hurting.

Makoto forced himself up, pushing the covers aside and making his way to the wash basin situated in his room to wash his face from the sleep that still resided there. He was still not entirely accustomed to having his own room and often wondered how Nagisa coped without him. Makoto had been there for him amidst his nightmares, and vice versa, for as long as they could both remember. 

He expelled the thoughts of Nagisa alone and afraid at night by splashing his face with cold water, focusing on the feel of clean water running down his face rather than the boy crying without Makoto to tell him it was ok. He reached for the cloth and continued to wash his body, readying himself for another day of service, and revelling in the feel of cleaning himself. 

Clean water was another thing he was still not used to. A wash like he had every morning had been a monthly occurrence during his childhood. He had had far more important things to worry about rather than smelling pleasant. Of course, now he had someone to think about.

He shook the thoughts of Nanase's son from his mind and reached for his clothes, hoping in vain he could once again distract his mind with the mundane morning tasks.  
Early sunlight was seeping in through the plain, tatty curtains and he knew if he did not hurry he would be late for work and breakfast. Breakfast. Imagine telling his younger self what sort of things he ate for breakfast nowadays. He smiled slightly to himself as he thought of a younger him and Nagisa getting a breakfast like they did now and imagined the pure joy they would have both felt. 

They really had come far.

After he had got dressed in his formal, work attire, which he had finally learned how to wear properly thanks to a kind maid, he made for his door. He strode out sleepily and made his way down the small corridor to Nagisa's room, taking in the shy morning light that crept through the window that adorned the end of the corridor. As he began to make his way further to Nagisa's room door, he began to see other servants and housemaids and housekeepers, all making their way to breakfast or getting on with another days work, their tired faces reflecting his own.

Makoto immediately straightened up. However nice these people had been, he could not let his guard down. He could not act sleepy or tired. He could not leave a bad impression that could be passed on to Sir Nanase. He could not loose this standing or job. He could not loose this for Nagisa.

He smiled pleasantly to the other staff, almost at Nagisa's little room, but he didn't showcase anything he was truly feeling that morning. That would be dangerous.  
Nagisa's room door was worn and slightly tacky and a small cobweb hung from one of the corners and Makoto worried whether their was a spider. He would find it hard to keep up this mostly serious facade if there was. He knocked on Nagisa's door lightly.

'Morning Nagisa', he whispered, not wanting to startle the most likely still sleeping boy.

There was no response and Makoto felt slightly worried. They couldn't be late!

'Nagisa!', Makoto whispered again, slightly more loudly and sternly hoping to entice out the blonde with his rarely seen annoyance.

He heard hurried shuffling and an 'ow!' from inside the small room before the door was swung open, far too quickly for this early morning, to reveal Nagisa; dishelved and sleeping with his work clothing a strew on his yawning body.

'Morning Mako!', said Nagisa cheerfully, swiping sleep from his bright eyes, 'Thanks for waking me again! Are we late?!'

Makoto sighed. In the 4 weeks they had been here this had happened almost everyday.

'Oh, Nagisa!', said Makoto in a slightly annoyed tone but with a small smirk on his face. He smoothed out Nagisa's clothing and helped him tuck it in properly, smothering him like a mother would a child.

'Makoooo', whined Nagisa, trying to remove Makoto's prying hands from his body, 'Please stopp, I want breakfasttt'.

Makoto stopped and smiled at the pouting boy before him. He silently marvelled at the fact that Nagisa still looked like a child even in his formal attire. It was rather hillarious.  
'Come on then', Makoto said as he started walking away, down the corridor and towards the small dining room in the kitchens for the staff, 'If we're quick we can still have breakfast'.

Nagisa hurried after him and Makoto smiled to himself again. He wondered whether the skip in Nagisa's step was for the breakfast or the eccentric Head Butler that would most likely be there that Makoto had caught Nagisa quietly staring at for the last few weeks. His smile soon faded the closer they got to the dining hall. The more he thought of the casusal flirtatious smirks and giggles Nagisa had sent the mans way, the more it made his heart ache.

It seemed Nagisa was destined towards the same thing as himself. A heart full of knives and worry and a love he could only bestow upon those he wasn't allowed to by society.  
My poor Nagisa, Makoto thought to himself, how dare he ,of all people ,have the same sorrowful fate as someone like me.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

There were many days like today in Haruka's life. Boring. Unfulfilling. Tiring.

Today was all of those things and he had come to the lake again to clear his mind. His mind always seemed to need clearing now days, especially after the arrival of the new Valet.  
Haruka wasn't too fond of him, he was too nice, too smiling and he made Haruka feel weird; the sort of weird he wasn't allowed to feel towards another man. Haruka hated him for it but at the same time, he also couldn't bring himself to resent the man; he was an angel in human form.

A day last week had been nothing near as bad as today was currently because of him. 

The young Valet was late one morning last week, much to Haruka's silent amusement, and it was the first time since their meeting in Sir Nanase's stuffy office that they had properly looked at each other in the eye and spoken.

Haruka had already been awake, purposefully waiting for the Valet's arrival. He loved seeing him when he first wake up, it was like waking up to the sun but better; more vibrant and beautiful.

The Valet had hurried into the room, obviously trying his best to be professional, and immediately stammered out an apology.

'F-forgive me Sir!', the tall man had said, his green eyes shining in sincere regret, 'I did not mean to be late!'

Haruka had slowly gotten up, making sure he didn't give evidence of the usual smile the Valet put on his face, and surveyed the giant Valet's quivering form; his apologetic stature comparable to an over-sized puppy.

Haruka had sighed, his silent amusement not referenced in his morning yawn, and looked at the Valet, fully taking in his appearance. The young man was scruffily put together, his uniform askew and his hair in a boyish mess ; his eyes every shade of sorry. Haruka hated that even now in this pathetic form, he was making him feel weird and fuzzy again.  
'It's quite alright', he said, lifting himself up and pushing his cover aside before stretching, revelling in the Valet's quiet, adorable tenseness, 'Don't fret about it -'

Haruka stopped midway, his breath catching in his throat. He had been about to address the young man by his name but he didn't know his name. He didn't know the name of this beautifully awkward man before him, and yet he occupied his thoughts far more than anything else, even though he had only been working for him for just shy of a month. He suddenly felt angry at himself, and his father for being a disrespectful pig who did not see any point in addressing his staff with respect. Haruka added it to the list.

He turned to Makoto, who seemed confused by his sudden silence, and spoke again.

'I'm terribly sorry', Haruka said, his voice slightly croaky with sleep, 'But I believe I do not know your name'.

The young Valet seemed shocked by Haruka's interest in such a thing as his name and it made a part of him sad to think that this hard-working young man would be surprised by something as simple as being addressed properly.

'Could you tell me your name?', asked Haruka, watching the jade green of the Valet's eyes widen ever so slightly with more surprise at the question.

'M-my name s-sir?', he said, confusion cowering across his young face. It made Haruka sadder still.

'Yes. I would like to know what you would like to be addressed as, considering you do so much for me', Haruka frowned slightly, 'It seem's only fair, does it not?'

The young Valet looked more shocked still, but Haruka saw him relax slightly before he replied.

'A-h, I see Sir. My name is Makoto Tachibana', he said, bowing slightly, 'But you do not have to call me by it at all if you do not wish'.

Haruka surveyed the young Valet again. What a fool, Haruka had thought, all I asked was his name and he bows. Haruka stopped himself from smiling a small smile.

'Well then, good morning Makoto Tachibana', said Haruka, watching as Makoto's face had brightened slightly and once again having to hold back a smile.

'G-good morning Sir', said the young Valet, Makoto as Haruka now called him in his head, bowing once more.

When he looked up again, meeting Haruka's eyes, Haruka had to stop himself from letting out a gasp. The man was smiling right at him, and it had been enough to restrict his breathing momentarily. He tilted his head in an strangely endearing way and his eyes were shut in obvious happiness, like a content cat. When he opened them again, Haruka was once again running through a forest but he had never wanted to run through it more with this man more than he did now, which was a very worrying advancement. 

Haruka had nodded and got up after that brief encounter and Makoto had got to work, his still clumsy form making it's way to the closet to fetch clothes for his master not knowing Haruka was silently testing the feel of Makoto's name on his tongue. Ma-ko-to. It suited him perfectly.

Haruka had watched him move and allowed himself to be entranced by his weird, lumbering grace unlike he did every morning, safe in the knowledge that maybe today would be a good day because a man like Makoto Tachibana existed.

But other days were strange and cruel in Haruka's memory. Memories of days like that made Haruka seek refuge in the comfort of thoughts of his Valet, refuges he knew he should not seek in a man.

The day Haruka's mother died was the worst and strangest day in Haruka's recent memory, and unlike his Grandmother's death it wasn't fresh, it was hazy and blurred, even though his Grandmother had died years before his Mother.

Haruka didn't remember being sad at all at his mother's funerals. He hadn't felt anything.

It had been raining on the day of her funeral, torrents of thick, heavy rain had fallen from the sky, so unforgivable and cold, as if the weather was bestowing what Haruka's mother had bestowed upon others whilst she was alive. Like the weather was reflecting her spirit.

Everyone had been dressed in black, the dark garments of mourning sodden from the rain for the occasion it seemed. Haruka had been dressed in almost the exact same attire as his father, but obviously small enough to fit his smaller and younger form. Haruka resented the fact that him and his father looked more similar than usual and thought maybe it was his punishment for not feeling sad on his mother's funeral day.

He had often wondered if it was bad he was more dismayed by the fact he looked like his father than the fact that his mother's corpse was in a freshly dug grave before him. Maybe he really was an emotionless monster like the other children, and some adults, had said.

Haruka remembered feeling numb as his mother was bayed farewell, but it was an unfeeling numbness, not the all consuming numbness he felt, and still felt, towards his grandmothers death. It made him resent himself further.

After the funeral was over and Haruka's sullen relatives began to leave, things between him and his father felt like they were getting worse by the second, if that were possible. He could taste his father's distaste towards him in the rain and the loathing glances he shot at his son; his own flesh and blood.

As the guests made their way out, bidding their last condolences, Haruka felt the atmosphere between him and his father worsen still. When the small, quiet chapel was finally empty and the only sound was the still pouring rain on the stained-glass windows, Haruka's father turned to him, looking into his son's eye's properly for probably the third time in Haruka's life.

Sir Nanase didn't say anything or do anything a normal father might do or say to their child after their child's mother's funeral. He didn't hug him or put a somewhat comforting hand on his shoulder, oh no. Haruka was sure the mere thought of such acts made his father turn his lip in disgust.

Steely blue and ocean blue met as Haruka's father stared at him, as if he had just set fire to the chapel around them.

Haruka felt his breath leave him but he didn't dare let his face or body show anything. That would be unwise, his father would prey on those signs of weakness.

It was in that moment that Haruka realised his father was blaming him for his own mothers death, the fire that glowed in his eyes told that story; nothing but resentment and hatred and a glint of despair pouring out of his long-dead blue eyes. Maybe he had caused it, even though his grandmother's form had assured him he hadn't. 

His father's silent sneer lit up the entire chapel in a dim, malevolent light and hatred poured out of the windows and icy fire danced in Sir Nanase's stare. His father's emotions were so blinding he couldn't bare to look at him any longer. Haruka felt himself hold his breath and looked to the floor, at his feet; studying the pool of rain water that surrounded his wet feet. 

Haruka almost let himself cry when he heard his father's words fill the chapel.  
'I wish you weren't my son', he spat out, continuing to take in his sons now quivering form, 'If you had never been born, not only would I be a happy man, but also a married one still.'

Haruka felt his father get close to him, the icy fire now full-blaze and raging in his sad eyes. He grabbed his son's collar and yanked him up making Haruka shiver ever more.

'If you hadn't been born, she would still be alive! She would still be here if it wasn't for you!', Sir Nanase spat louder this time, his tone harsher, rougher as he felt his son flinch at his words, 'I wish you were the one being lowered into that grave today!'

Haruka's father's words hung in the air before Haruka looked up, eyeing his father with anger in his eyes, letting it swirl as freely as he wanted for the first time in his life. Sir Nanase looked visibly shocked at his son's furious expression directed at him. He almost gasped when Haruka yanked his hand away from his collar, pushing his father back a few steps away from him.

'How dare you blame me for my own mother's death!', Haruka cried out, anger and hurt twisting his slightly shaking shriek, 'When it was you who caused her death! I wasn't the one who left her unprotected in a carriage on her own! I wasn't the one who made people hate our family with such poor political decisions and put her at danger!'

Haruka caught his breath and took in his father's shocked face, continuing before his father could interrupt.

'It wasn't my fault at all, in fact it's your fault', Haruka's voice hardened far too much for a child of twelve, 'because your a monst-'.

A sharp pain hit his cheek and it took him a while to realise his father had punched him in the face. He felt blood trickling out of his nose before anything else and he began to feel dizzy, swaying on his feet.

As his vision started to fade, he heard his father's voice fill the chapel once more, dark and menacing in a way you never think your own father would sound.

'Let this be a lesson to never speak like that to me again, boy', he heard his father snarl before another sharp pain came to his face. Then everything went black and Haruka couldn't see anything but black and never in his life had he wanted to see the stars so bad.  
But now he realised that he wanted to see the stars worse than he had then, but with the Valet with the forest in his eyes. That beautiful forest and those beautiful stars together would surely be enough to allow him to escape from the shadows his father cast upon him. 

But he knew that a thing such as that could never happen. He could never have moments like that with a man, or a Valet for that matter. It was impossible. Unfathomable. Punishable.

The more he thought about it, the more he hated himself for thinking such things about another man. The lake and the trees that surrounded him were his only haven now. He knew he would never be allowed to have a haven in those eyes. He simply couldn't allow himself to even think of such things.

He was so consumed in his thoughts, he did not hear the meandering footsteps of the person in question coming towards him through the trees, or the soft crunching that accompanied them. 

Maybe his despair would be solved by those footsteps, or maybe the opposite. Both were set on the opposite, but neither of them knew of fate's other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloo
> 
> I'm sorry it's been a while since I updated this. School started up again and I immediately found less time to write this. I will allocate time to this though, and I will try to have a new chapter up at least once every fortnight so look forward to that!
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading and don't hesitate to leave a comment with any criticism or questions you might have :)


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